


in 3 to 5 business days

by gayblockz (lizandre)



Series: trans fundy pog [3]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Binder Fitting, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Good Parent Wilbur Soot, Hurt/Comfort, Stress, Teenager Fundy, The Author Is Mayhaps Projecting, Trans Character, Trans Floris | Fundy, Trans Male Character, but then it gets better, father-son bonding, he is just a boy and he feels lost, i wrote this like five minutes before messaging gc2b support and it shows LMAO
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 05:16:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29005167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizandre/pseuds/gayblockz
Summary: Coming out to his father doesn't give Fundy the sense of relief he thought it would.He still doesn't know anything.He has no clue how he will go about coming out to his school, about legally changing his name, about whether he wants to medically transition or not.He can’t even choose a binder properly.
Relationships: Floris | Fundy & Wilbur Soot, No Romantic Relationship(s)
Series: trans fundy pog [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2056434
Comments: 23
Kudos: 152





	in 3 to 5 business days

**Author's Note:**

> stage of mental illness: naming your fanfic after the automated "request recieved" email from gc2b
> 
> disclaimer: this is explicitly about character!fundy, not the irl creator. the irl creator is a cis man, but has stated that he was okay with trans hcs. :)

Fundy felt like he was thrown into the middle of a frozen lake and he had no clue what to do.

He saw a dinghy in the distance, so he swam to it, and it felt like that was the plan, and the dinghy seemed so distant that he’s not even sure it’s possible to reach it, but once he’s in it, it would surely be the easiest thing in the world from there.

But he’s in the dinghy now.

And he still has no idea what he’s doing.

He came out to his dad, and he was supportive.

But his dad is still a cis man, and he knows even less than Fundy. Fundy is still alone in that dinghy, with no sense of direction, and no land in his line of sight.

He has no clue how he will go about coming out to his school, about legally changing his name, about whether he wants to medically transition or not.

He can’t even choose a binder properly.

His trembling fingers fumble with the measuring tape, and he’s sure every number he’s writing down is wrong.

He doesn’t know which size would fit him, and he doesn’t know what he’s more terrified of, getting a binder which doesn’t work or getting a binder which is too tight and his father won’t let him wear.

He’s trying his best not to cry but his lip is trembling.

All he wants is some guidance, but he knows that’s too much to ask for.

A soft knock on the door makes him jump, and his father’s voice calls out to him through the door.

“Fundy? Can I come in?”

“One second,” Fundy responds, pulling on his tight sports bra and hoodie, and goes to open the door.

Wilbur immediately notices the puffy red eyes and the tired bags under his eyes.

“You okay?” he gently ruffles his son’s hair. “How did the measuring go?”

“I don’t know.”

Fundy responds honestly.

“Well, have you written down the measurements?” Wilbur walks over to the laptop, which has a step by step instruction.

“I feel like none of them are accurate,” Fundy doesn’t lie again, passing over the paper on which he scribbled a bunch of numbers.

“If it makes you feel better, we can give a few centimeters of lenience to each measurement,” Wilbur examines the note.

“If we do that I’ll be in between sizes on the chart,” Fundy mumbles, and he feels tears crop up in the corners of his eyes again. He hates it. He hates the fact that it’s so hard being himself. He hates the fact that _normal_ boys don’t go through this.

“Well, that’s okay, we can just—”

Fundy doesn’t care about how Wilbur cuts himself off.

Fundy doesn’t look up to see his dad gently approach him and embrace him in a hug.

“Shhhh,” he whispers, gently. “It’s okay. It’s just some minor difficulties. Everything will be okay.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Fundy pushes out, hoarsely. “I can’t imagine a future for myself as a man.”

Wilbur takes a moment in stunned silence.

He then kneels in front of his son, and looks him dead in the eyes.

“Fundy. You are a man. No matter what happens, any future you have will be a future as a man.”

Something breaks in Fundy, and the dam collapses.

He sobs, burying his face into his father’s soft sweater.

He feels Wilbur run his fingers through the ginger hair, murmuring words of comfort.

For the first time in his life, Fundy feels like it’s okay that he doesn’t have a plan.

“Thanks…” he whispers. “Thank you, thank you, thank you…”

He frantically chants his gratitude under his breath, filling the room with his muttering, in order to at least attempt to convey how thankful he is.

“You don’t need to thank me,” Fundy is cut off by Wilbur’s smooth voice. “I don’t know much about what you’re going through. I don’t think I can ever comprehend what it’s like. I can’t be a guiding hand for you on this one. But I _will_ help you find people who can be.”

Fundy sits in Wilbur’s lap with the laptop in front of them. For the next few hours, they research more, look at forums, send a few emails. His father assures Fundy that it will be okay, and that he will get his binder in the perfect size for him.

“We can take things slow,” he says. “Solve one problem at a time.”

Fundy relaxes in his father’s arms, and lets himself believe the words he hears.

“Thank you,” he says again, and feels his dad press a kiss into his hair, ruffling it afterwards.

“No worries,” Wilbur stands up, and walks towards the door. “Just wait a little bit longer. It’ll be fine very soon, yeah?”

Fundy nods with a tired smile.

After saying their “I love you”s, the door clicks softly.

Fundy looks back at the screen of his laptop.

The tabs with informational websites stare at him.

They embrace him with supportive arms, with the assurance that he’s not alone, that there are ways out, that he has a future.

The emails promise:

“We will get back to you in 3 to 5 business days.”

He smiles.

He just has to wait a little bit longer.

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote the first half having a mental breakdown about binders, and the second after emailing gc2b LMAO 
> 
> why are binders so hard pls i just want a flat chest is that too much to ask
> 
> thank you for reading!!
> 
> if you enjoyed, pls leave kudos and comments, don't feel pressured tho <3 <3 <3


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